Let's Give Them Something to Talk About
by RoseHasThorns
Summary: Chapter 3 Sharona has heard all the jokes...but this isn't funny.
1. Default Chapter

She's heard all the jokes.  
  
She's sick of them too, both of them are. The whispers that surround them, are they or aren't they? That type of stuff. It's not like she's stupid, she can see how people would come to that conclusion. And part of her.part of her would really like it to be true.  
  
She shouldn't be thinking like that.  
  
It's Adrian Monk for god's sake!  
  
But it's true. Some part of her, the part that beats inside her chest, the part that doesn't like to communicate with her brain, truly yearns for him to look her in the eyes, and slowly, just slowly, lean forward and.  
  
She really should go to a psychiatrist. Work all these feelings out. It's ADRIAN she keeps telling her self angrily, but some how all her heart comes up with is.I know. It doesn't explain it self, it doesn't have to. Her mind tries to reason with it, provides concrete evidence as to why it won't work out: he's mentally unstable, he still loves Trudy, Sharona he doesn't care for you THAT way. It's ADRIAN MONK.  
  
Her heart doesn't listen. All it says is.I know.  
  
She's pretty good at hiding it anyway. When his deep, brown eyes turn to her she's learned to look away. If she looks too long it makes something inside of her hurt.  
  
And besides he wouldn't be able to handle her confession of love like others would. She has a feeling he would just leave her with no response, just wide eyes.not understanding, not wanting to understand. He might even block it out. He always blocks out things he doesn't want to acknowledge. It would be like revealing her self to a brick wall and she doubts she could handle that.  
  
Which all leads her to this moment and why she can't believe she is doing this. Standing in front of his door, hand poised to knock. Mouth ready to pour everything out, every feeling, every breath of hope and pain.  
  
She really wants it to work.she really hopes she'll still be able to work if he says no.  
  
God, she shouldn't be doing this. She thought she had more sense.  
  
Obviously she doesn't, cause her heart says now and she knocks on the door.  
  
She's heard all the jokes, but now isn't funny. Now is Adrian Monk, standing in front of her, waiting for her to say something. And she does. She says everything. 


	2. Fate Finally Comes Around

Sharona is sitting on the couch in Adrian's living room, listening to him argue with the instructions on a coffee container and really she should put him out of his misery and offer to do it her self but she's just too exhausted. Everything inside of her is tired, as if lethargy has suddenly invested itself inside her joints and she vows she'll never pour out her feelings again, it takes everything out of you.  
  
And there's something else that's bothering her and its right there, burning into her skull, filling it with disastrous thoughts she shouldn't be thinking. Her brain has done a lot of that today. But this is even worse, this is pure jealousy sticking out its ugly green head and cackling wildly so that it seems to echo across the room. It's that damn table, placed strategically for a reason, a reason Adrian once whispered to her in confidence that she would truly understand and never ask questions.  
  
But of course she's gone against her promise and her hands are itching to adjust it, to bring it back to its proper place, at a right angle like everything else in his apartment. It's wrong, it's so wrong, and yet she feels like everything would just be better if she did it. As if Trudy's ghost would vanish from the situation just by the movement of a silly piece of furniture. As if everything would just be normal. Right angle. Just a simple movement. Perhaps he wouldn't even notice.  
  
Yeah right.  
  
And that's when it hits her. Hard. Right in the chest. It's never going to work out, never. Because she bets that even if he said I love you, even if their dates were amazing, even if he asked for her to move in with him, that table would always be there. In that place. Her place. If Sharona were to move it, whether today or 2 years into their relationship, he would nod maybe and say something about "how nice it looks in that particular place" but she's sure that if she were to leave the room, even for just a couple of minutes, somehow it would drift back into the same spot, as if Trudy's hands had guided it there themselves.  
  
You've got to understand, this was Adrian's soul mate; you can never replace a soul mate. If you aim for that you'll die trying. He'll love you, sure, but not in the way he loved her, he'll never love you that way. It's just not possible. The heart only has enough room for one soul mate.  
  
Sharona, her brain says, you came too late.  
  
And Sharona hates her self for that. Hates the fact that fate shoved her into a sickly marriage and all the while Adrian was being loved by somebody else. But then she realizes she never would have had Benjy and she quickly dismisses the thought from her mind.  
  
She realizes she is crying about five seconds before Adrian, half an hour later, finally enters with the coffee. She quickly wipes the edges of her eyes with her sleeve and puts on the best imitation of a smile she has.  
  
"Sharona," He says after taking three minutes of twitching, and long breaths, and wringing his hands. She won't let him do this. She can't let him do this. She's had enough bad relationships to understand that her heart can't break anymore. Each time it does it takes longer to glue itself back together; it whines and burns, one of these days it will shatter and all the pieces will be too minuscule to gather and she will be left with nothing. An empty cavern inside her ribs.  
  
"Look, um, you should forget everything I said." She says quickly. Adrian pauses, opens him mouth and then shuts it again. His eyes are digging into hers, prodding her thoughts and fear creeps into her system that he can see the disgusting person she has become. That he will draw back with the frown of one who has just witnessed the darkest side of a person he has trusted for years. Jesus, she's jealous of a dead woman! How low can you get?  
  
"Sharona," He starts again. Tears begin to blossom out of the corners of her eyes, making the room blurry. The table, the damn table is the only thing she can see clearly.  
  
"I, uh, I got to run some errands. I'll call you." She grabs her purse and stumbles towards the door and fumbles with the handle and makes an awful display of a woman who is totally deteriorating at her seams and then there's a hand on her shoulder.  
  
And a million sparks fly through her veins and send shivers down her spine.  
  
Adrian, Adrian who can't touch anybody, is touching her. And he's got this look in his eyes, a look she can't decipher, but it must be good. It must be. Something inside of her is galloping around as if there is a racehorse in her stomach.  
  
"Sharona." He says in that deep voice he gets when confidence springs into him, a voice Sharona would never admit was the sexiest thing she had ever heard. Her name has never sounded so perfect. She would die happy if he repeated her name three times in that voice. If she could record that word and just play it night and day and perhaps dream that he felt the same way.  
  
She's not expecting the gentle kiss that graces her lips.  
  
Then again, fate never gives you what you were expecting. 


	3. Revenge of the Butterflies

She isn't quite sure what she is doing at the moment, except for blankly staring into a foggy mirror at wet curls and startling blue eyes. She writes her name on the glass with her finger and then presses her forehead to the surface with a deep sigh. She has to keep saying her name, has to make sure that she is still here, still the same flesh that emerged from her mother's womb. Still the same little girl, who swore she would never fall in love, never let her self truly go unless she met prince charming.  
  
Somewhere along the way she made a wrong turn and ended up falling in love with an obsessive-compulsive man. There went her fairy tale.  
  
She's trying to figure out the exact moment it happened, the crease in her plans, but nothing comes up. It just came together over time, built up until she couldn't deny it anymore. She can't retrace her path, there are no sprinkles of bread crumbs to turn around and follow. And Sharona knows she might regret this, knows that a simple thing like this could screw up a relationship she has treasured for years. Like a snip in an expensive fabric. She's doing it anyway, she's following her heart.  
  
She's going on a date with Adrian Monk.  
  
Well, if you can call it a date. She's pretty sure that's what it is. A specific time, a specific place, a specific man and if that isn't a date she doesn't know what is. She hopes it's not awkward, although she has a feeling it will be. She's already creating and painting it in her mind, sees Adrian at the table waiting, fidgeting, inspecting the glasses, nervously fiddling with the buttons of his suit. She can't place her self there though, can't find her at the table with him, in her new dress, hair done up, perfume softly gracing her skin.  
  
She should get a move on; Adrian can't stand it when people are late. Funnily enough she has spent three hours agonizing over what to wear. Longest she has ever spent on anything. She just can't decide, and there's butterflies in her stomach the size of Godzilla she can feel them banging around against her organs.  
  
She's distracted by everything. She's a total mess. She should just pick up the phone and cancel.  
  
But she doesn't, she gets dressed and somehow makes her way to the front door without killing her self.  
  
"So, who are you going out with?" Benjy asks face flooded with curiosity. There is a certain instinct in his heart that tells him he should be protecting his mother.  
  
"Um, ah, didn't I tell you?" Course she didn't, but she hopes this question will throw him off and give her enough time to slip out the door. Where is that damn baby-sitter anyway?  
  
"Do I know him?"  
  
"Yeah, you've met him once or twice," She says slowly, her eyes trailing to the clock on the wall. She hears a car pull up outside and as if Jesus himself is in the Toyota she throws open the door. The babysitter, emerging from her car, jumps at the sound. "I've got to go honey." Sharona states quickly, waving to the shocked girl.  
  
"Say hi to Adrian for me." Benjy suddenly cries and her ears ring with the sound of his voice. He knows. Jesus, the kid knows. She turns around slowly, staring at the grinning boy in front of her.  
  
"How did you?"  
  
"He called ten minutes ago asking if you were about to leave." Sharona can't help but smile and she pulls Benjy to her, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.  
  
"I love you."  
  
"Have a good time." He says genuinely.  
  
And that's what's she going to do, she promises herself, she's going to have a good time. 


End file.
